‘Imbecile. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. And, besides, she didn’t just immediately want to make her attempt. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. She rolled to one side. . ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. The gate was opened; the coffin brought into the churchyard; and Jack, whose eyes were filled with tears, saw Mr. Sheppard. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour.
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